


In the Persistence of Memory

by nodere



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Era, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, SHEITH - Freeform, Sexual Tension, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 10:43:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8976457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nodere/pseuds/nodere
Summary: The holes in Shiro's memory are deeper than he had realized. Even now that he is back, Keith is still grieving his loss.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I love reading the different interpretations of Sheith off-screen. Here's my take on it. Enjoy!
> 
> PS: I need a beta, all mistakes are my own.
> 
> PPS: I giggle every time I think about writing Keith crying. I imagine he cries the biggest, fattest Ghibli tears.

**SHIRO**

 

Shiro awoke with a start and rubbed his eyes with his free hand to clear his vision.  _ What a nightmare…. _ He patted the hand draped across his chest, gave it a squeeze, and nestled back down, listening to the slow, regular heartbeat and low, deep breathing of his bed partner. He felt the warm breath on his neck and shifted his gaze up to the familiar face framed in dark hair as he drifted back toward the comfort of sleep.

Yet the memory of his dream would not leave him. He shuddered. Where was he anyway?  Whose arm was that again? His eyes snapped open. Its owner did not stir. Carefully, he slid out from the loose embrace and slowly turned around.

It was just Keith, at least it certainly looked like Keith, if a little bigger with hair a little longer. Was this truly a dream? Were  _ they _ so powerful they could construct a dream like this?

Shiro crept cautiously back over and brushed the hair out of Keith’s face to study his features. The hydraulics in his right hand whirred audibly as he did so, and distracted by the sound, he looked down at his prosthesis. This couldn’t possibly be a dream, could it? He shouldn’t be like  _ this _ in this place. Yet everything else was just as he remembered it down to the tread-worn planks on the floor, the pilled blanket, the way Keith slept with one arm folded under his head, lips ever so slightly parted, the way he  _ smelled _ . How did they get this memory? Who let them have  _ this  _ memory?

Who were  _ they _ anyway?

Where was he again?

He had too many questions. Why had he been sleeping on the floor? Why had he been sleeping on the floor with Keith? This was definitely Keith, right? Looking around, there were other people in the room whose faces he did not recognize. He glanced over at Keith again, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Shiro leaned back on his elbows, thinking. How long had it been since…?

Since what? He didn’t know. Yet everything had such a distinct familiarity. He reached out to touch Keith’s hair again, this time with his other hand. Thick, smooth, slightly greasy.

Perhaps if he went back to sleep it would all go away. Then again, if he stayed awake, maybe it would remain. He stood, rocking on his feet, but found his balance easily. Without much thought, he gently picked Keith up without disturbing him, and carried him over to the futon, but it had been folded up into a sofa. Why would this part be different, he wondered, carefully setting down his friend - they were still friends, right? The idea that they might not be anymore crept into his head, and he pushed it out again almost immediately after feeling the twitch of anxious panic. Unthinkable. He tucked the blanket in tightly around Keith.

If this were his new reality, he’d take it.

 

+++

**KEITH**

 

Keith had heard the news like everyone else; on the National Public Radio evening broadcast interrupted by a breaking press release from the Galaxy Garrison. _Contact with Kerberos Mission lost._ _All crew missing and presumed dead._ It had hurt, but then everything that year had hurt. It had moved along like some surrealist dream, starting with his expulsion from the Garrison for “discipline issues.” _Discipline issues my ass,_ he’d thought. _They just didn’t want to admit their top-ranked cadet had been sleeping with an officer._ He hadn’t expected to be booted, but as long as he’d still had Shiro, he’d thought he would be okay. And then Shiro had been assigned to the farthest point in the solar system. Hearing Takashi Shirogane declared MIA, presumed dead, over the radio from the same guy who voiced the pizza commercials and traffic updates had felt like the inevitable punch line to the cosmic joke of his life.

_ Pilot error. Lies. _

He considered this as he lay there, wiping the crumbs of sleep from his eyes.  The events of the previous evening were a blur, and he did not remember falling asleep on the futon.  He hadn’t unfolded it as a bed since… well, it had been a while.  It was only now that Keith realized just how lost he’d been for the past year.  He had been unable to forgive himself, always wanting more, pushing the boundaries, seeing just how far he could bend the rules or break them. He should have been more careful.  _ They _ should have been more careful.  Stripped of his dream of becoming a fighter class pilot, hollowed out by grief and loss, he’d drifted. He had tried to pick up and leave, make a start fresh someplace new, yet his instincts kept pulling him back and he had eventually found himself practically right back where he had started, mere miles from the Garrison base out in the Mojave Desert. Something had told him to search and while he had not re-discovered any great purpose, he had found Shiro.

Granted “finding” Shiro had entailed breaking into a Garrison encampment disguised as a depot where some clearly classified operation was clearly going on, but that was a minor detail.

Moonlight shone softly through the window above him, across the rafters spanning the ceiling of the small room. Keith looked around at the strangers sleeping on his floor. He was fairly certain he had never seen the youngest one before, but they – he wasn’t sure if they were a girl or not - looked like someone he knew but could not place. The big man, who was wedged between his bookshelf and makeshift coffee table, had been in his class but he didn't remember the guy’s name. Lance had spread out in the middle of the room with his jacket wadded up under his head, snoring.  That was three.  He looked over to Shiro.

Shiro wasn’t there.

They had left him on the floor with some pillows and blankets because he didn’t fit on the folded up futon, he was just too tall, and there wasn’t room to unfold it with five of them. Keith scanned the room again and stopped at the door, shut but unchained. Shiro must have gone out. Well, it wasn't like he’d go very far.

Only Keith had the code to his hover bike, and they were miles out into the desert.

He couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t been there to get Shiro out of the camp. And not just Shiro, but the other three as well, whom he was pretty sure had followed in on his lead. Keith was not about to lose Shiro again. Especially not so soon after getting him back. If he did, well, that would be Shiro’s choice.  _ Don’t think about it.  _ He held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut tight for a moment.

_ Shit. _

He wished he were someplace else.

Quietly, he got up and made his way to the exit.  The nights were often colder here, and he grabbed his jacket before leaving, taking care to shut the door soundlessly behind him.  Outside, he forced himself to relax, breathing deeply and sighing. The moon had risen high and he could see well enough without a light. He walked a short way up toward the canyon from the shack. They were not exactly off the grid, but they were well hidden. He was certain Shiro had come this way and eventually spotted him a short distance ahead.

The last time they’d been out here together had been a few weeks before the Kerberos launch. It had long been the safest place for them to be together. Keith wanted so badly to return to that time. Tonight, Shiro hadn’t even bothered to wake him. Keith could only imagine what Shiro had experienced over the past year. He wanted to touch him, hold him, and kiss him. He considered the radio feed he’d tuned into on the way to the base earlier that evening, after he’d spotted the alien craft. He recalled the familiar cadence of the panicked voice and now berated himself for refusing to believe it at the time. He didn’t want to hurt anymore; so much of his existence was filled with hurt that he felt by now he should be numb to it. But he was not. Something in Shiro had changed. He had sensed that when he found him strapped to the table, and it wasn’t just the physical changes, which were shocking enough. Shiro’s once jet-black hair was now frosted gray and his complexion sallow. The cybernetic prosthesis replacing his right arm looked unlike any technology they had on Earth. He wondered how Shiro had lost the limb, and watched now as Shiro flexed his fingers, held that hand in the one of flesh and blood, then turned it over, examining it as if it were new.

He swallowed, a weak attempt to hold back the nausea in the pit of his stomach. Regardless of circumstance, the person Keith had thought he had lost forever was standing in front of him, and not for the first time that night he tucked away his grief.  Somehow, he still felt empty. Empty and lost.

Keith approached, put his hand on Shiro’s shoulder and squeezed. Shiro turned to look at him, expression cold and hard for just a moment before softening with recognition. Keith resolved to keep his hand there as long as he was welcome. He could not shake the feeling that something was not quite right. He did not know what to say and for all he could have and probably should have said, what came out of his mouth instead was, “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back.” Shiro spoke carefully, and then looked Keith over appraisingly, “You need a haircut.”

Keith snorted, and tilted his head back just back enough to look up at him.  “Yeah, I know.” He rubbed his hand across Shiro’s shoulders and down to the small of his back where he left it. “What happened out there?  Where  _ were _ you?”

“I – I don’t know.  I wish I could tell you.” Shiro shook his head, raking the pads of his cybernetic fingers through the forelock of hair that fell in his face.

Keith could feel the distress in Shiro’s voice. He thought about the radio feed again. If the alien threat was as bad as Shiro said, how had he even been able to leave?  Was it  _ really _ escape, or had they let him go? Did it even matter? He had so many questions.

He leaned his head against Shiro’s shoulder, but immediately pulled away when he felt Shiro tense. Rejection stung. He wished they could just pick back up from where they had left off, but he knew that was impossible.

Standing this close, out here with few other distractions was not helping him think. The little things were the same; the way Shiro tilted his head ever so slightly when he looked at him, the way he stood, shoulders almost perfectly square, and he thankfully hadn’t gotten any taller. Keith was struck by the unsettling scent of dust and metal, sweat, and something else he couldn’t place. Unlike  everything else he had lost, Keith was right now standing beside the most important one, and yet he felt powerless to act. He didn’t know what to say or do for fear it would be the wrong thing.

Keith had been alone for most of his life. He was used to it. He knew how to hide his bitterness and anger, and he also knew how to cover up excitement and joys. He had done all of these things with ease before he met Shiro, and he learned how to do them again when Shiro was gone, but with him there again, Keith’s composure was beginning to slip. One tiny crack and then he couldn’t hold it back any longer. He turned, burying his face in Shiro’s chest, clutching at his vest.  He choked back his tears, feeling Shiro stiffen, but still clinging.  "I am so sorry," he said, the words muffled by fabric. "This is all my fault…”

Shiro wrapped his arms around him, twined fingers through his hair and held him close. “No.” he spoke softly, “Keith, it’s not.”

Keith cried. Tears streamed down his face and neck.  It was an embarrassing cry wracked with hiccupping sobs and snot, and when he was done, he wiped the wet spot on Shiro’s vest with the cuff of his jacket.  “At least you found your clothes.”

 

+++

**KEITH**

 

Keith leaned back against the headboard. He’d taken off his boots and socks, and laid his jacket at the foot of the bed with his belt and gloves. He didn’t trust this place yet and the dagger he always wore was on the bed beside him. Nothing about the castle was particularly welcoming, despite the fact that this was supposed to be  _ his _ room, if indeed he was the Red Paladin. The Red Lion was contrary; he didn’t actually know how she felt about him apart from a grudging acknowledgement of him as her current pilot. To him, it seemed like she was taking what she could get until someone better came along. The floors were cold, the mattress hard, and the water in the shower lukewarm. This was the first night he had ever spent in space, and here he was in this dark, uncomfortable, tiny room, alone.

He thought about going to find Shiro, but this was the first downtime any of them had had since breaking into the Garrison camp two nights ago. Shiro was… kind as always, and there were the small gestures, but he didn’t want to be the one pushing if Shiro just wasn’t ready. That was the hopeful part of him. The realist in Keith wasn’t sure Shiro even remembered what they’d been. He knew that Shiro was severely compromised, holding together for now, but for how much longer?

He reached for the chain around his neck, pulling it and the ring strung on it out from under his shirt. He unclasped it and caught the ring in his hand as it fell, setting the chain on the bed beside him. He slid the ring onto his index finger, expecting it to fit, but to his surprise he couldn’t slide it past his second knuckle. The ring itself was a two-part band of titanium and folded steel that twisted and locked into place. Keith took it apart and fit it back together, thinking the two parts weren’t sitting flush, but that didn’t seem to be the case. He finally got it to fit on the ring finger of his right hand, and he supposed that was where it would just have to go. He had not considered that he might have grown. He’d seemed to have stopped at five feet eight and a half inches, and had maintained that height for the last four years. Even if his pants had gotten a little snugger over the last year, it certainly wasn’t uncomfortable or even awkward enough to warrant buying new clothes. He’d always been small, and at this point, he thought he always would be. He looked at his hands. They certainly looked the same to him.

Someone knocked on his door.

“Come in,” he said flatly, just as the door cracked opened. His visitor hadn’t waited. Keith sat up, grabbed the dagger, and swung his legs over the side of the bed as Shiro stepped inside and slid the door shut behind him. “Oh!” He relaxed.

Shiro ignored Keith’s tension, sat down next to him, and flopped backwards. “They call this a mattress?”

“Yeah, and I’m the one who has to sleep on it.”

“Mine’s just as bad.”

“Can’t sleep?”

“Mmm.”

Keith shoved the dagger under his pillow and lay down next to him. Close, and if he scooted just a little closer, their shoulders would be touching. He felt he should say something, but he didn’t know what. Apparently Shiro didn’t either. Keith clasped his hands over his stomach, but that didn’t seem quite right. He reached over for Shiro’s hand.  It was the alien tech, the Galra prosthesis, but he didn’t care. Shiro squeezed, more roughly than he had expected, but it was something and right now, that was the best he could hope for.

“I thought you were dead for a whole year.” Keith said, as if feeling a sudden need to explain himself for wanting to hold hands.

“Maybe I was. I lost a whole year of my life.”

“Do you remember anything?” and then, reconsidering his question, he asked, “Do you want to remember?”

“I- I don’t know. When we were on the cruiser this afternoon and Pidge and I were surrounded by drones…” Shiro stopped, his jaw tensing in his hesitation.

“Go on.” Keith encouraged, rubbing his thumb over Shiro’s. The casing was cool to the touch, the finger pads smooth and supple.

“This hand became a weapon and I-,” He eased his hand from Keith’s grasp, “It was as if my own sense of danger energized it and then I took all of that and used it to take down, what 5, maybe 6 drones? We should have been overpowered easily. They must have kept me alive for a reason, I mean-” Shiro took a deep breath and locked eyes with Keith, “look at me.”

Keith searched his eyes.  He didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking for. Shiro looked tired. Tired and agitated. 

“I don’t know if it was intentional like an experiment or if something happened to me that gave them the opportunity...” Shiro trailed off.

“And?” What else could he say? He had never been particularly gifted at providing comfort, but he also knew that he was the most familiar face, the only piece of home Shiro had. He closed the gap between them, just enough so their shoulders were touching. “What is it?”

Shiro took a deep breath, “I’m not sure I know myself anymore.”

Keith blinked and propped himself up on one elbow. “Okay, but Shiro, you were strong, you survived, you escaped, but you’re not their prisoner anymore.” He had never known Shiro to question himself like this. What was he supposed to say? Here he was, someone who had how many times considered just giving up? Who had decided that life was not worth living if he had to live it alone? What would he have said to himself if he’d had a conversation about it? Keith tried again, “Even if they did give you a weapon, made part of you a weapon, as long as you have the power to choose for yourself, it is what you make it out to be and nothing more or less.”  _ And I am here with you. You know that, right? _

“I- ” He was staring at Keith’s hand, his face suddenly stricken.

“Hey.” Keith reached over, placing his hand on Shiro’s shoulder. “What is it?”

Shiro held up his cybernetic hand. “I don’t have it.”

_ Yeah, I know you’re missing your hand. _

Shiro continued after a pause, agitated. “It was on my right hand. Keith, I…” His voice cracked.

Keith looked at his hand.  _ The ring. _ Once, he would have been upset if Shiro had told him he’d lost his ring. It had been Shiro’s idea and Keith had thought it kind of silly at first; he had no sense about romance. Of course they each had one, exactly the same and Shiro had given it to him shortly before leaving for Kerberos. Shiro had worn his on his right hand, while Keith kept his on a chain for discretion. It was a promise they had made.  _ But the value is in the word, not the symbol. _

“Shiro.” He leaned over to kiss Shiro’s forehead. “Come here.” Keith slid his arms around him and held him.

They stayed like that for hours. Keith listened to the hum of the ship, heard the mice scuttle across the floor, felt the rise and fall of Shiro’s chest as he held him tight, face pressed into his neck.  He felt Shiro stir, and let him get up, pretending to be asleep. He felt a warm hand brush his hair from his face and tuck it behind his ear. Felt a kiss on his cheek. He couldn’t help but smile and crack his eyes open just in time to see Shiro quietly step out of his room, closing the door behind him.

 

+++

**KEITH**

 

He walked over to the sink and caught his reflection in the mirror.  His face was flushed; he was actually blushing! He had to calm down, and he needed to see Shiro.  Alone.

He had been planning to talk to Shiro for the past several days, but the opportunity never seemed to present itself and it was becoming harder to focus.  He had carefully composed his words and practiced to himself at night before falling asleep.

He flossed and brushed his teeth. He watched the water run from the faucet down the drain for a moment as he gripped the sides of the basin and took a deep breath.   _ Just go over there and talk to him. _ He looked down at his sweat-stained shirt and decided to change it, making sure the ring on his necklace was tucked away. He dared not take it off, but after seeing Shiro so visibly distressed, it seemed better to hide it.

He just needed to get this over with.

Keith stalked silently down the hall with his hands shoved into his pockets.  He stopped outside Shiro’s door and hesitated, his hair plastered to his neck from a cold sweat.  _ Gross.  _ Reaching into a pocket for a hairband and finding one, he deftly pulled his hair back into a messy ponytail, and was about to knock on the door when it opened.

Shiro blinked at him.  “Keith!”

Keith just stood there and stared at him. Everything he’d carefully played through in his head was gone. He’d forgotten what he wanted to say aside from,  _ I can’t stop thinking about you _ and maybe that was all he needed to say. He tried not to notice the way Shiro’s vest stretched taut across his chest or the way his shirt clung to his shoulders and biceps or the warm, salty scent of his sweat. If he continued to stare hard enough, perhaps Shiro wouldn’t see the obvious tent in his pants.

After a very long, very silent moment, during which Keith, chagrined, felt himself thoroughly looked over, Shiro stepped aside and let him in, sliding the door shut behind them. Keith sat down on the bed and sighed, raking his bangs back from his eyes for a moment before letting his hair fall again into his face.  Surely by now it was obvious what he wanted.  Shiro sat beside him.

“Is this a bad time?” Keith asked.

“No, I was just going to take a walk and grab a snack. What’s up?”

He pursed his lips.  _ It’s me. _ “Good one Shirogane” he replied as he kicked off his boots and pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged on Shiro’s bed. He could hear Shiro’s breathing beside him.  It was faint, but he’d noticed that he could hear it ever since the rescue. He wondered if it had something to do with that scar across the bridge of his nose.  Keith thought it certainly didn’t look very deep, more a well-healed discoloration, but that didn’t mean anything.  As he’d come to realize, the healing technology of the Alteans was immense and he imagined the Galra would have similar capabilities.

“Mmmmmm.” A hint of a smile played on Shiro’s lips as he shifted easily around behind him and gripped his shoulders, massaging deeply.  Keith could feel the heat of Shiro’s breath at the back of his head and he relaxed into his strong hands.

“Takashi?” Keith asked, and realized that he’d startled Shiro as he felt him pull his hands away and scoot back next to him.  He was fairly certain the last time he’d used Shiro’s first name had been just before the Kerberos launch. He hadn’t been permitted back on the base after they’d booted him, so he’d called Shiro on a video feed from just outside the perimeter. This – starting from a rushed rescue to being taken to the other end of the galaxy in a flying blue lion, to piloting lion-shaped spacecraft to fighting the forces of evil in the universe with a giant robot made from combination lion magic - was very, very far removed from how he had once expected their reunion to go. He reached over for Shiro’s hand and squeezed, but the gesture was not returned. “This has been eating at me the last several days,” Keith began, pulling away and clasping his hands together in his lap, knuckles turning white as he squeezed his palms together, “I just” he paused, unsure of how to continue, “need to know how you feel about me, so I can either get over you and move on or…” His voice trailed, not wanting to think about it, but he had to, “or figure out how to deal with it.”

“Keith, I…” Shiro trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words. Keith couldn’t tell if Shiro had been expecting this conversation or not. The paladin bond was a funny thing, but it was never fickle. He let Shiro ever so gently tilt his face up, a low moan escaping his parted lips as Shiro ran his thumbs over Keith’s eyelids, along his cheekbones, earlobes, tracing back along his jaw and lips.  Shiro leaned toward him and kissed him once, soft and chaste.

Keith drew in his breath sharply.  However long it had been, it had definitely been too long. He felt the warmth in his face burn as it traveled down his throat to the pit of his stomach and settle in his groin. His mouth was parched and he swallowed hard, trying to get rid of that feeling. He opened his eyes, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he searched Shiro’s gaze. He kissed him back aggressively, grabbing his shirt and lacing one hand in Shiro’s short shorn hair. Without pulling away, he unfolded his legs and straddled the larger man, settling himself in his lap.  He felt a slight tug at the back of his head, hesitant at first, and then a warm hand tangled in his hair, the other one sliding up his leg, over his hip, around to his buttock, squeezing.

_ Guess we’re picking back up after all _ . He was relieved if still somewhat unsure of how this was going to turn out, and shoved Shiro playfully, just hard enough to knock him back onto the bed, head landing in the center of the pillow. Keith lowered his body so that he had Shiro half pinned beneath him. Forehead to forehead, he smiled, then kissed him, sliding his tongue between Shiro’s lips.  He gripped the hair tightly at Shiro’s scalp with one hand, the other fumbling with the zipper on his vest, separating it after a momentary struggle.  _ You’re not leaving me again. _ He pulled back, raising himself up slightly, just enough to look down into Shiro’s eyes, “Why are you wearing so many clothes?” He kissed him again, just a solid peck before Shiro could answer and then traced tiny kisses along his jawline, ran his tongue around the conch of his ear, and tugged at his earlobe gently with his teeth.

A small gasp escaped Shiro. He grunted when Keith ran his knuckles over the head of his cock through the fabric of his pants before expertly easing them off. Keith slipped out of his own somehow, down to his shorts and leaned in as Shiro placed his arms around him.

Keith relaxed against Shiro’s chest, yet something felt off that he just couldn’t place. Shiro’s muscles were so tense he was sure he could have bounced a coin off of that taut stomach. “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

Keith propped himself up, leaning on crossed arms across Shiro’s chest, “This is okay, right?”

He could tell by Shiro’s expression that the question had caught him off guard. “Why do you ask?”

 

+++

**SHIRO**

 

Keith extracted himself from Shiro’s arms and laid his head next to his on the pillow. All Shiro had to do was turn his face ever so slightly and his nose was right in Keith’s hair. He breathed in.   _ Warm cinnamon and… helmet pads? _ Keith was saying something. He should be paying attention.

“…‘Cause you’re not relaxed and I don't think you're really into me.”

That admission had to hurt. He glanced over to catch Keith staring at a point somewhere above them.

“It’s like you’re going through all the motions, but  _ you _ aren’t present. I just want you to fuck me – or I can fuck you, doesn’t matter either way - and I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but you’re letting me do all the work, which makes me think you’re bored.”

Shiro stared at Keith. The thing was, he felt as if he had forgotten something crucial about Keith or himself or both of them and he didn’t know what but was desperately wracking his brain for anything that might jog his mind. This was the most frightening part about his memory loss. He was constantly running into things he just didn’t recognize or didn’t remember and trying his best to cover it up or roll with it so that no one would ask questions. Only now, Keith had asked him a very specific question and while kissing him had felt like the right response, he didn’t understand why he felt that way and the longer it went on, the more confused he’d become. Not that he didn’t like everything about touching and smelling and hugging and kissing Keith, because he did. At this point, he was operating on the assumption that they’d been intimate. That wasn’t quite the best way to describe it, more like they’d had a lot of sex. And while he couldn’t recall any specifics, he imagined he would, no, did enjoy sex with Keith. How does one even go about explaining that though? How does one explain to their partner, rather the person they assume is their partner, that they don’t actually remember being together?

For just a brief moment, he was seeing red, but he somehow managed to reign in the impulse to slam his fist through a wall. Why couldn’t he remember this? This was important. It was very simple, very personal, and  _ very human _ . This should have had nothing to do with his captivity. Or did it? Were there other aspects of his life he hadn’t yet discovered that would also be missing? How much of what made him  _ him _ was locked away and would it be like this forever? Is this what dementia felt like, always trying to hide the pieces that were forgotten just to make some sense within the fabric of the present?

He needed Keith to give him something to work with. Anything. Keith showing up unannounced was the best surprise of the day. Better than forming Voltron. He noticed the small lump the ring made on the chain beneath Keith’s shirt. He tried to focus. What was important about that ring? All he could come up with was the desert shack at night, outside just the two of them. Watching the stars. Something to do with flying.  No.  Something bigger than that, just out of reach.  He closed his eyes.  This exercise was starting to wear on him. Something. Something. And then he had something real, “…I want to travel to the stars with you.” He knew that phrase was somehow important. 

Keith turned toward him. “Yeah well, here we are.”

_ Are you pouting?  _ Shiro wasn’t sure how much he wanted to reveal of what he just didn't know. Keith clearly understood that he was having difficulty with this but not even he knew the extent of it yet, and so how could he explain it? The fabric of his memory frayed a little at the edge.  Shiro was so close, yet he couldn’t quite pick his way through.

Keith stared at him with the strangest unreadable expression. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed, and that dark curtain over his mind seemed stuck fast in place.

Keith looked as if he were about the say something but Shiro spoke first. “I remember when you showed me your acceptance letter to the Garrison. I was so, so proud of you and I remember thinking you’d finally be going somewhere you could just be yourself.”

Keith smiled at the recollection. “You told me that, and I just didn’t get it. Then we argued for several hours over the dress code. ‘Be yourself,’ he says.”

“You were such a little punk!”

“So were you!”

“Okay fine, but you were the one who thought it would actually be okay to show up at the Garrison with long hair, piercings, eyeliner, and black nail polish.”

“As I recall, that eyeliner came from you, Mr. Shirogane. The handbook doesn’t accommodate individual expression, but seriously, it was just the hair rule and it only said hair can’t be  _ worn _ past your shoulders.”

“You just don’t like having your hair cut.”

“I don’t. My head’s shaped funny and my ears stick out.”

Shiro laughed. “I like your funny-shaped head and I think your ears are cute. Who knows, maybe you’re an alien.”

Keith rolled his eyes, grinning. “I did it though. The worst haircut I’ve ever had. We all show up for our first day, hardly have any time to settle in and get called to line up in uniform to meet the upperclassmen, and there you are staring right at me.”

Just admit it. “I don’t remember staring at you,” and he didn’t.  He couldn’t remember anything about Keith’s arrival at the Garrison. Had he gone to pick him up? That seemed like something he would have done. Or had Keith taken a bus from the city?

“You did! For two very uncomfortable hours!” Keith exclaimed, but Shiro saw his smile fall. Keith shifted, pressing himself right up against Shiro’s side, propping himself up on an elbow and resting a leg over one of Shiro’s. He reached over and ran his fingers through Shiro’s forelock, slowing brushing the hair out of his face. “So what you do remember?” he asked, without malice or mockery. “About us.”

Shiro tried again. This felt good. There had to be something. He thought about the desert shack again and flight practice. “Late night study sessions… in the simulator-”

Without skipping a beat, Keith interjected, “You kissed me first.”

“N-I did?” Shiro asked, surprised, before he had thought about what he’d just said, the confusion was evident in his tone.  He really could not recall.  He knew that Keith wasn’t trying to pull anything over on him, but seeing the hurt on Keith face, even for just a moment before it was gone, left him thinking that he had unwillingly and unknowingly betrayed a sacred trust. It was just too much. He tried to take a deep breath, but it just rattled in his lungs. “Keith. I am so sorry.”

“For what?” Keith hadn’t moved away, but he had stopped stroking Shiro’s hair.

Shiro threw his hands up in frustration, “I can’t do this.”

 

+++

**KEITH**

 

_ And you think I’m doing any better?  _ “Here.” He nudged Shiro up a bit so he could put his arms around him. Shiro didn’t budge. He nudged Shiro again, this time annoyed. “Stop being dead weight.”

Shiro shifted and Keith slid around behind him, pressing his face to Shiro’s head while holding him tightly.  _ I am going to hug the shit out of you and you are going to like it.  _ “You’re going to be okay.”

“But Keith, I-“

“Stop it. I am not giving up on you.”  _ And I am definitely not giving up on us. _ “If you want to tell me what’s going on, I’m here. If you’re not ready, I’ll be here when you are.” He felt Shiro tense, fighting to hold back a well of emotion, and held him tighter. He only loosened his grip when he felt Shiro move, and allowed himself to be hugged in return, with Shiro’s face now buried in his chest.

Keith stayed there, smoothing Shiro’s hair. Eventually sleep came.

He awoke entangled in blankets and long limbs with Shiro’s head on his shoulder and an extremely uncomfortable ache in his loins. Shiro stirred as Keith carefully smoothed his hair then slid out from beneath him. Shiro cracked open an eyelid as Keith bent over and kissed him, quickly but firmly on the cheek, then hopped soundlessly off the bed.

In silence, Keith tugged on his pants, which was somewhat awkward, considering. Locating his boots took a little longer, but he found them and slipped them on. Shiro hadn’t moved but still watched him from the bed. “I should shower.”  _ And take care of this problem. _ He made his way over to the door, with Shiro watching him. “You should try to get some more rest.” Keith let himself out and quickly slid the door shut behind him.

Keith made his way back to his room as swiftly and noiselessly and as he could. As soon as he was inside, he locked his door and leaned back against it.  He slid down to the floor in a heap. He was starved for affection and the anxious knot in his stomach had been there for so long, it was beginning to feel normal. He felt raw inside, and perhaps even more alone than he had before.  The emptiness gave way to sadness, then anger. It hurt so much that he didn’t know how to help Shiro, hurt that Shiro couldn’t remember, hurt that he was feeling so damned sorry for himself and then after all that, he felt particularly disgusted by all his own base, selfish thoughts.

He got up and went to bathe, hoping that would help. It did not. While jerking it all out in the shower was briefly satisfying and solved several immediate problems, it didn’t actually resolve anything.

 

+++

**SHIRO**

 

Shiro had been trying to find an opportunity to talk to Keith, but they’d all been so busy and when not with the rest of the team, it seemed he was intentionally scarce. Quite frankly, Shiro missed Keith, and so here he was, waiting outside the door to the training deck, from where he knew Keith would eventually emerge.

The past week had been a blur after the dealing with the bomb planted by Haxus and Sendak that had severely damaged the ship’s core energy crystal and put Lance in the healing pod where he was still sleeping in stasis. Not only that, their siege of the castle ship had almost been successful with the added embarrassment of the lions being locked in their hangars.

Perhaps it would have turned out differently had he been paying more attention to the enemy situation, like a good soldier, like the leader of this elite military unit he was supposed to be.

The lesson? That it would always be the little things that change everything.

This had been true in combat, and this was especially true where Keith was concerned.

It had happened after the success of the robeast defeat on Arus. Allura and Coran had arranged festivities inside the castle for the Arusian people to celebrate and presumably make amends for the damage they, the Voltron team, had caused. Shiro had spent much of the evening out of the spotlight, observing. Keith had checked up on him a few times. No, he wasn’t hungry. Yes, he was fine. He had been content to nurse his beverage and watch. He had seen Lance steal away in homesick despair and Pidge stuff her backpack full of sweets and hors d’oeuvres. He had wondered what he would be doing now if he were home. For some reason he had felt lonely, as if he had been missing a sense of familiarity, but it hadn't been so much homesickness for a place as it had been for a feeling. He had been taught, and he truly believed, that as long as he was with the people he cared most about, he was home.

And that was when he’d heard it.

He had turned toward the sound so abruptly he had nearly dropped his glass. It had been Keith, laughing so hard, with tears of mirth at the corners of his eyes, arms crossed tightly over his belly, head thrown back. Droplets of the heavy pink liquid that they had all been drinking, or not as Shiro’s tiniest sip had sent him retching discreetly behind a table, had clung to his chin and had dripped down the front of his flight suit.

It had been the most familiar, radiant, and to him, beautiful noise. For a brief moment, he had felt all the desperation and insecurity abate. When had he last heard that sound?

He had slipped away down one of the long corridors to think, tucking himself away into the shadows of the ship. He had recalled the small secret smiles, the fleeting moments when they’d pass each other in the halls at the Garrison, shoulders and hands brushing, the welling adrenaline as his heart beat faster, tenderness in a glance, wonderment at having realized someone he’d known for so long could still be new and fresh.

It had happened right after they’d been caught in the act that had prompted Shiro’s assignment to the Kerberos mission, but a few weeks before Keith’s disciplinary hearing that would later take place just days before the launch.

They had gone out to the desert together. Keith had tried to apologize, and so had he. It had been a mess of each one trying to take all the blame. Keith had escalated quickly from barely collected to bitter anger and not knowing what else to do, Shiro had shoved him over, had pinned him down, and had raspberried the soft curve between his neck and shoulder.

A long moment of tense silence, and then, Keith had laughed.

Shiro had covered his own face in embarrassment and had lain down, head on Keith’s chest. When he had finally found his voice, the only thing he had been able to say was, “I love you.”

Keith hadn’t laughed at him that time. Instead, he had pressed two fingers to Shiro’s lips, “Yeah, I know.”

_ ‘If you say something too often, it loses its meaning _ .’

So many things about Keith had always been unspoken.

Shiro had rested his head on Keith’s shoulder and as they had looked up at the stars, he had reached into a pocket, taking out two rings. “Let’s make a promise.”

Shiro had remembered.

It wasn’t everything and it wasn’t many things. They were little things and important.

Shiro thought about all of this. He could hear the combat session, even from outside, and he would have welcomed the opportunity to watch, but he didn’t want to interrupt either.  Eventually the door slid open and Keith emerged, rubbing his hair down with a towel.

Keith stopped at once upon seeing Shiro, leaving the towel over his head. “Oh hey.  You surprised me.”

“I doubt that. How’d it go?” Shiro asked.

“Well enough I suppose. It’s hard to tell. I’m not sure what the baseline is. I think I might try Level 5 tomorrow.  I’m not getting my ass completely handed to me at Level 4 anymore.” Keith turned and lifted up his shirt to check his side, where a very large reddish bruise was already beginning to form. He dropped his shirt, stretched his arms above his head, and then started down the hall at a somewhat leisurely pace. Shiro walked beside him, deciding in the moment to put his hand at the small of Keith’s back, hooking his thumb in the waistband of Keith’s pants. The glance he received was guarded but he wasn't shaken off.

“I guess I should get in there more often then, huh?”

Keith shrugged.  “It’s really up to you.  I enjoy it.” He nudged Shiro playfully with an elbow, “You know, it might be nice to have a sparring partner who isn’t a drone.”

He wanted to smile, but he couldn't even force it. “Keith?” He had to ask. If he wanted to get anywhere, he had to do it.

“Yes?” Keith cracked his neck and hung the towel across his shoulders. His hair was damp and his shirt stained front and back with sweat.

“Why are you avoiding me?” There. That part at least was said.

Gently but firmly, Keith grabbed his hand from where it rested at his back, squeezing his fingers as he turned to meet Shiro’s eyes.

Shiro swallowed and hoped Keith hadn’t heard the sticking in his throat, though as far as he could tell, they were both equally on edge.

Keith stepped forward and held Shiro’s hand to his breast. “Because this is the only way I know how to keep functioning. You know, unless we’re out on a mission, or training, or visiting some planet somewhere, or doing  _ something _ , it’s pretty bleak out here.”

“Keith-”

“We are floating out in the infinite vastness of the universe. This ship is the only thing protecting us from the vacuum of space, the extremes of pressure and cold, radiation that will destroy our very DNA. Do you ever think about that? I think about it a lot.”

“Keith-”

“I’m not avoiding you.” Keith finally answered the question. “I’m waiting for you.”

Shiro closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. Why was this so hard? Why did Keith always make this so hard? “I miss you.”

Keith searched his eyes. “I miss  _ you _ too.”

He could hear the unintended sarcasm. Those words cut him deep. “Knowing that they- Haggar, the druids, whatever- took you away from me and that I might never have all or most of that back has been one of the most difficult things about being here. With you. I get bits and pieces here and there, like sneaking out after classes to go grab burgers in town or hiking out into the desert at night just to get far enough away from the lights to see the stars…” his voice trailed off.

“I told you I won’t give up on you.” Keith’s voice was level and low.

Shiro licked his lips.  He had to get the rest of this out somehow. “Keith?” He didn't have to ask, he still had Keith’s full attention.”

“Yes, Shiro?”

He squeezed Keith’s hand and whispered, “‘When I come back, I want to travel the stars with you. I don’t care if it’s now when I’m young or at the end of a lifetime, as long as it’s with you.’”

He watched Keith blink a few times, glassy eyed. “Shiro?”

It was his turn now, “Yes?”

“I love you.”

 

+++

**KEITH**

 

His words w ere the truth, words he’d felt but never spoken. The heaviness in the pit of his stomach was still there, but now it was almost bearable.

Shiro’s eyes widened in surprise, and wrapping those strong arms around him, held him tight, face buried in his hair. “I love you too.” The air escaped Keith’s lungs with a soft huff before Shiro loosened his hold to allow the embrace to be returned.

Keith rested his head on Shiro’s chest, and after a long moment, took his hand, “There’s something I want to show you.”

“That I haven’t seen? On this ship?”

Keith nodded. “Well, I don’t think you’ve seen it, but I don’t really know.” He started down the hall with a small tug on Shiro’s hand for him to come. They walked together in comfortable silence.

Keith finally stopped several floors above the bridge, tapping the touchpad to open the doors. They stepped inside, and Keith watched as Shiro’s face lit up in wonder at the sight before them.

What Keith had discovered here, was a small section of the ship where the curved outer wall was entirely windows and the ceiling above them open skylight. All around them, thousands of stars twinkled through the darkness, hazy clusters of galaxies visible across the expanse of the cosmos. Colorful planets of the nearby system like blown glass orbs hung suspended in the blackness. Keith closed the door behind them and when he did, the stars and planets were instantly projected into the room. It was as if they were standing in the heavens, slowly shifting and changing as the ship cruised along.

“It’s beautiful.” Shiro whispered, stepping behind Keith, hands on his shoulders.

Keith turned around and looked up at Shiro. He took the chain from around his neck and removed the ring, slipping the chain into his pocket. The two-part band came apart easily and he slipped the larger piece onto the fourth finger of Shiro’s left hand, putting the smaller one on his own hand. “We made it.”

Shiro looked at their hands, again taking Keith's in his, and then closing what space remained between them, whispered softly, “What do you propose we do next?” He cupped Keith’s jaw in his hand and leaned in.

Keith rocked forward on his toes to meet him. 


End file.
